


The Mission

by athos



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, crack!fic, what happens when the author tries to write porn with her in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athos/pseuds/athos
Summary: A friend challenged me to write erotica with me in it. It went awry rather quickly.





	The Mission

 

I knew going in that this was a bad idea, a desperate gamble, but we were out of options. Sapping into old tunnels beneath the enemy’s fortress looking for this thing that would nullify his power, something that would save everyone, somehow. No one had actually explained it to me, but apparently I was the only one who could do retrieve the object and nullify it, because of course I was.

I walked as quietly as possible on soft leather boots through the tunnels, making my way by feel on the cold, damp walls. I had to be close. I could hear water dripping somewhere. I continued, straining to hear any sign of pursuit. My people should be guarding the other side, and there shouldn’t be any other entrances, according to our best intelligence, but still, I wasn’t going to let my guard down. Not with nothing between by back and an arrow besides a thin shirt, clammy with nervous sweat.

Finally I rounded a bend in the cave, and I saw it: a glowing red stone on a pedestal, gracing the high-ceilinged chamber in suitably eerie light. I approached it obliquely, carefully inspecting the floor for traps or anything that would spring and condemn the rebellion to failure, and condemn me to capture and a cruel death... _or worse._

I circled the pedestal. Should I just grab it? Did I need to mimic the weight of the stone with something? Would it hurt me to touch it? I really wished I’d asked for more details. Finally I squared my shoulders and extended my hand to grasp the fist-sized jewel. As my hand closed around it, I felt subtle vibrations moving up my arm, and the jewel pulsed slightly. I cautiously looked right and left as I put it in my bag, stepped back from the pedestal, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. It had been so easy.

Too easy.

My third backward step ended abruptly with my back to a wall that should not have been there. I whirled around startled--yep, a wall, not an open tunnel. Shit. Suddenly something yanked me back and down by the back of my shirt and I spun to the side, barely keeping to my feet. When I looked up, across the room a figure emerged from shadows cast by suddenly-present lights. He was tall, wore rich clothing and had perfectly wavy hair framing a handsome face with golden eyes and a cruel smile. My jaw snapped shut. It was all for nothing--if _he_ were here, the others must have failed. I wasn’t fast enough. It was all for naught and there was nothing to be done.

His smile twitched into a smirk as I stood up. Should I be defiant, or try to make a deal? I reached into my bag for the jewel. I didn’t want to die begging. I’d heard stories of his cruelty, so maybe I could just be matter-of-fact and we could skip the--

“So, they sent a little thief to,” his long fingers curled into air quotes, “‘steal my power’ and crush the terrible tyrant once and for all." His smirk somehow became nastier. "It delights me to tell you that you have failed.”

“Now what, then?” I asked. “You kill me for my presumption?”

He laughed, the smug little fucker. Naturally. “Now, little thief, you have a choice. You can either die, along with the rabble you’ve been working with, as examples of what happened to people who defy me.”

“Sounds pretty standard,” I muttered.

He ignored me. “Or I can let them go, transport them to the border, alive and unharmed, and you can stay with me.” As he spoke he walked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine, apparently completely confident that I posed him no threat.

“And do what?” I asked, bewildered.

He pursed his lips and looked slowly up and down my body. “Whatever I want, of course.”

What.

“...And if I decide not to cooperate?” I bluffed, trying to buy time because I didn’t know what else to do; I just knew I wanted to delay whatever was coming for as long as possible. Hey, I might get lucky and have a brilliant idea.

He bared his teeth in another feral smile and I failed to repress the shiver that ran down my spine. “In that case, I _convince_ you.” He suddenly held a coil of black rope in his hands, and I recognized the shimmer of some enchantment on it.

I decided to try defiance, and mocked, “Oh, I see. The big baddie with his scary rope has to tie people up and blackmail them to get his rocks off. Classy.”

He stepped closer. “I don’t ‘have to’; I just like it that way. And you will come to like it, too,” he promised darkly.

“Are you listening to yourself?” I asked incredulously, stepping away from him--not that there was anywhere to go. “You’re really going to forgive everything that’s been going on if I agree to stay and be your… your sex slave?”

“It doesn’t matter if you agree or not. You don’t have a choice.”

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Your motivation. How would keeping me as a sex slave possibly...I mean, do I even know you?”

He narrowed his eyes and I felt a chill, which was stupid, because the room had been perfectly warm a moment ago. I continued, “I’m not even supposed to be here, I mean, I can’t remember the backstory--I don’t even know your name; I just somehow know you’re the super scary bad guy who will do horrible things to me--”

He interrupted me, drawing himself to his full height, “Dominic Mordredsen”

“--if I don’t. Wait. _What?”_

“My name," he clarified. Then he narrowed his eyes and advanced a step closer. "But you can call me Mast--”

“That is the most stereotypically bad-guy name ever.”

His smoldering glare prickled at my skin and brandished the rope menacingly. “That is the last time you will interrupt me, girl. I enjoy defiance as much as the next sadist, but really, you--”

“No. This is not happening.” I shook my head, wondering how to get out of this mess when... “Are you tapping your foot impatiently?!” I asked incredulously.

He sighed, “Look, I’m here to fulfill a dark fantasy that you don’t want to acknowledge, so _forgive me,"_ he said sarcastically, "if I’m unwilling to indulge your crisis.”

“You and me being here just doesn’t make any sense. Why am I after this glowing rock? How the hell is it going to help...wait, whose side am I on?” I asked.

He stomped his foot and waved his riding crop--it’s a riding crop now? Okay…--and said, “This is erotica. Porn. P-O-R-N. It doesn’t need to make sense; it’s about carnality and lust and fucking and about completely NOT making sense. I know you’re an obvious author-insert character and our author is a sexually stunted block of repression and analysis, but can you get out of the author’s head for just a few minutes?”

I paused and considered. “No, I don’t think so. I think breaking the fourth wall in porn is an undeniable boner-killer. How do I get out of here?”

I tossed the glowing rock on the floor and looked around for anything exit-y I might have missed before when--and I _really_ should have seen this coming-- I was yanked back by my hair and he whispered in my ear, “Like this.” His sharp-toothed grin filled my field of vision and then we were no longer in the cave but in a bedroom.

A red-room, really, because everything was deep, plush red and velvet and gauze and silk, just over-ripe decadence wherever I looked. He manhandled in a way that might have been really hot except then he tossed me--picked me up and _tossed me_ \--onto a re-fucking-diculous bed. It was so bouncy that I bounced right the fuck off of it and landed with a resounding thump on the floor.

I rolled to my feet and declared, “Yep. We’re done here.”

“The hell we are,” he snapped. “I haven’t even started with--”

“No!” I interrupted him. He looked taken-aback, as though no one had interrupted him before. “There is no way to recover your sexy menace after a cock-up like that.”

“But--”

“Neeewwwwppppp.”

“Well, what are we going to do then?”

I pause. “Netflix?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In which we learn that there are two sorts of people in the world: those for whom breaking the fourth wall is a boner-killer and those for whom it is not.


End file.
